


me & you, you & me (let's go back to 1983)

by orphan_account



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Vine RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 05:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19100953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: drew isn't confident





	me & you, you & me (let's go back to 1983)

_ There’s the chiming of arcade machines, wonder strikes, first love. There's the chiming of Drew's heart, fragile little thing, threatening to tear out of his chest in the crowded bowling alley (crowded, as if entertaining the fickle concept of Drew caring about anyone else here besides a kid called Danny, a kid in front of him who just scored three points past their current neck - to - neck score, beaming stupid and uncaring and unlike Drew, guarded) as Danny turns back to him. “This is nice, huh?” _

_ Drew grins back at him, finding a blustering sort of confidence that's impossible in the presence of any other person but for Danny, this brevity reserved especially for him, only for him. "For once, I'm not stressed. So, that's good, I guess?" (And it's all because and all for him.) _

_ The scoreboard stares intimidatingly at both of them. Danny twists his arm, it seeming being sore, and sits down on the bench next to Drew — still smiling, the two, but their eyes averted from each other. Not knowing what to say. Drew likes to think - likes to think Danny's afraid of saying it, because Drew is. Drew's terrified. _

_ The blush on Danny's face is brighter than the neon lights that line the bowling alley corners. _

_ Drew looks at his hands, the palms tattered with lines that children would read and predict crushes, picket fences, the colour of a house a couple would buy. Danny's looking over at another aisle, (envy fills Drew, envy and lovesick with it,) and Drew wonders if Danny'd like blue. "Yeah, it's good," Danny finally says, and turns back to Drew. He's flustering, and it's cute, highlighting the nebulas of freckles on Danny's cheeks like the cosmos of the arcade floors, the supernovae of Danny's eyes like the end of all things, _

_ and all Drew does is anxiously laugh. _

_ Neon Trees is loud in the bowling alley. Danny's face is lit neon and Drew feels like he's back in - back in high school again, as Danny moves closer and Drew's hand moves to cup the other's jaw, feels like he's flying. Danny’s all hesitant, fuck, of course he is, gorgeous boy, Drew reaches for his collar to tug him in as Danny kisses him and ah, ah, _

“ah—!” shrieks Drew as he’s hit in the face by a pillow by an unknown assailant and wakes up and it’s fuckin’ Danny Gonzalez, standing askew next to the sun filtering through the shutters in a shirt and shorts, already dressed like a complete lunatic, beaming on the eve of the tour they’ll be on for a while,  _ how thin are these walls? _

Drew sits up and hisses at the morning. He tries not to think too hard about dream Danny, under him in the hotel bathroom, panting his name with flushed cheeks and shut eyelids, tries not to think too hard about dream Danny in an open field, their hands entwined, hopelessly lovely with Drew’s lips brushing his knuckles. (Drew thinks too much.)

“Buckle up, buttercup,” Danny announces, planting a hand on his hip. Drew didn’t prepare for his frizzy hair, curls everywhere and unceremonious as Drew shields his own vision and Danny in response opens the curtains — jesus! “Big days ahead. We’ve gonna go prove we’re two different people.”

Drew groans and rolls over. “Give me five minutes. We live in a society.”

;;

It’s been coming up for days, weeks, months, years, and Drew’s been thinking about it for longer. They’ll love it, the fans — the pair’ve put blood, sweat and tears into We Are Two Different People, worked tirelessly over long hours and stayed up with zinfandel wine with other personalities who’ve seen Danny and Drew’s development before, during and after Vine’s homemade Odyssey.

Yet, as Drew sits in the dressing room adjacent to the audience he’s dreading, outfitted in the blue and gold janky jacket that’s a bit too big for Danny’s lanky shoulders but they laughed anyway about it, (God.) he still hasn’t been expecting it. Social anxiety meets the national scale. He’s had nightmares about standing up there but everyone laughing at him, not with him, red as the tomatoes thrown at him, sinking, drowning, an exhibitionist’s suicide rehearsal—

“Drew.” A woman. Light hair, eyes flecked with gold, a beige blazer. She’s pretty, in some faroff unattainable PR advisor way. She taps her bare wrist, motioning. “You’re on.”

She leaves to the choir of a humming crowd, waiting, writhing, and Drew swallows. It's time, (it'stimeit'stimeit'stime, the anxious cage of his heart hisses) Danny’s on the couch opposite, (kisshimkisshimkisshim, the lurid pathos of his heart levels) looking perfectly flawed (andDrewcan't, the hymnal truth of his heart sighs.), checking his phone prior to the announcement. His hands, sat in his lap, feel sweaty. Both their heads raise, and Drew’s given an uncertain smile as they both stand and stroll out, out to the long and narrow hallway to the stage’s right exit—

and Drew pauses behind the curtain, and Danny looks at him and then at fame’s light, “What?”

“I can’t—” freezes up, “I can’t do it, Danny.”

and Danny moves close. A hand moves to cup Drew’s jaw, the curve of a calloused index finger just under his ear. Drew looks at him and there's his lungs a - shuddering in his throat, again. He looks away. His breathing’s too loud. He can hear his heart rattling against his own ribs.

(but, still, Drew looks at him and sees the world—)

"I'm — scared," he says, finally. Danny’s patient. "Scared of fucking it all up. I - I mean, what if we flunk it? What if we’re not funny? What if they don’t - don’t care?” His whisper comes out hurried, a stuttered high tone. “What if we’re the laughing stocks?”

Danny doesn’t answer, for a long time, and Drew can predict that the other’s about to validate his insecurities, about to insult him when Danny opens his mouth, “—come here, Drew.” but it’s just  _ warmth _ .

He collapses into the other and arms are thrown around him to hold Drew tight, fire - hot comfort with molten eyes but a cool voice, and Drew envelopes himself in it as he hears Danny hum in the furnace - chasms of his throat. “‘M sorry,” Drew mutters, his voice thick, Danny holds him and fuck, fuck, that feels good. He feels feather - light in Danny’s arms, body but a dust mote on Icarus’ wings.

“Drew, don’t ever apologize,” Danny murmurs back. They separate, and Danny’s eyes are brighter than anything. “Come on, man. Us against the world, right?”

“But—”   


“But, all you’re thinking about is pipe dreams. You just have to think about what’s happening now. Right now,” Danny purses his lips, “I’m worried about you, because you’re talking about the ridiculous possibility of actually being impacted by sixteen year olds who paid to see us with their parents trying to insult you. And I know,” (his fingers tap down to hold Drew’s chin so they’re eye level and their foreheads are pressing together, Danny’s voice low and personal and caring about Drew,) “and I know, for a fact, their days will be made to see you. You’re their world. Who else could amount to that?”

(You, replies Drew’s heart.)

“I don’t know,” replies Drew’s mouth, and Danny laughs, nodding. 

“That’s the spirit, dumbass. Come on, it’s already been fifty five seconds.”

They go out there, and they make those people laugh so hard both parties’ sides hurt. They go out there and Drew feels kind of okay as the spotlights frame Danny grabbing his hand and pulling it high into the air, shoulders knocking as Danny grins lopsidedly and Drew grins larger back at him and they’re together, (together, there, in that moment in time that’s been locked, loaded and will be tweeted out there by teenagers with stan accounts that see Danny like Drew does in that Danny’s the sun and the motherfucking stars—)

Something’s changed. Drew’s unsure what, but it’s not good. 

**Author's Note:**

> HEY this was originally meant to be a multichapter but i lost the original files & when i tried to rewrite it just didn't mesh well for me looking back. apologies. i hope you enjoyed this anyway


End file.
